To Hiss or to Kiss by Katya Armock Read Free Book Online

confusing woman, Chloe.” Jorge shoots me a perplexed, yet slightly amused look as he settles next to me.
    Oh, if only he knew. Thank God I know how to protect my mind when necessary.
    I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s gazing intently at the floor, and I really want to know what he’s thinking, but I don’t feel right spying on him with my ability. And I suppose he’d know now anyway.
    His profile is so beautiful, his straight black hair falling into his face. I tentatively reach out my hand and lift his chin so our eyes are locked again. Then I brush the stray lock of his hair off his forehead. His skin is soft and warm. “You realize that I can talk with animals. Not like I just hear their thoughts. We converse if the animal is open to it. So I bet we could converse in our minds, too.” My voice is uncharacteristically husky and, suddenly feeling self-conscious, I begin to withdraw my hand, but Jorge reaches and stops me, holding my hand against his cheek with his own. I could melt into him, and even my rational side has stopped swearing at me and admonishing me to run.
    He looks at me with some trepidation but also curiosity. I imagine he is worrying about having me tumble around in his head—or maybe he’s afraid to tumble around in mine. I can admit it could be a scary place. I can also admit that the thought of speaking mind to mind with Jorge is both exhilarating and terrifying, but I bet it would lead to really great sex. Imagine just being able to think what you want—no annoying talking and explaining. Delicious .
    “You’re blushing and grinning wickedly.” A slow, sexy smile crosses his face. “I don’t think I need to hear your thoughts to know what you are thinking.”
    I’m a little shocked by his boldness and wonder if the whisky is doing some magic to loosen his tongue. But not for me. I’m speechless at my own lack of control and more than a little aroused. And more than a little panicked again at being caught in my lascivious thoughts, but I swallow it down. Arousal and scotch can go a long way to quell panic.
    And then suddenly his face is mere inches in front me, and he is studying me with an intensity I recognize as catlike. He still holds my hand to his cheek. I wonder if he will kiss me finally, and I lick my lips. Just as quickly, he is standing by the fireplace, my abandoned hand feeling cold at the loss of his warmth. “I apologize.” He avoids my eyes. “We have shared each other’s secrets, so now I assume we will keep them. I believe I have detained you long enough.”
    “Seriously?” I must be turning thirteen shades of embarrassed and angry red as my hand tightens on my glass and my entire body stiffens. Now he’s going to go all aloof on me? And after I took his whole “I’m a jaguar” thing so well?
    Horny, frustrated, and mortified, I find myself glaring at the side of his face. My emotions have been so fraught all night I can’t seem to get a handle on my sudden anger, and I’m not sure I even want to. I realize I’m shaking, and I let the ire carry me away, powerless to stop the tide.
    Jorge continues to say nothing, his head tilted away to avoid eye contact. I snort, but he still ignores me. I half expect him to just walk out of the room and point at the door.
    The shot of whisky I downed makes my head spin a little as my blood pressure rises. I am so angry I seriously consider throwing my Dalwhinnie at his head . But I am still rational enough to withstand the temptation and instead stand abruptly and walk in the direction of the kitchen.
    I see the bottle of Dalwhinnie on the counter and take it and my Glencairn glass and walk back to the living room and to the door. “Fine. I’ll leave now.”
    He looks up, finally, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he sees what I’m carrying, but he still says nothing. And his face resumes its stoic expression. Bastard.
    I turn and walk out, slamming the door behind me.
    Goddamn men and goddamn me for